Finding Eden
by BruHaeven
Summary: On friendship, divorce and the complexity of emotions. Because moving on and starting over is only hard when you're alone. TxY Friendship fic
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to Sqaure Enix. I just like to steal their ideas and play with them for a bit XD

.xxx.

The day Yuffie shows up on the doorstep of the Seventh Heaven is the day that Tifa is certain her marriage is over. Everything hurts and yet she doesn't cry. She has done enough of that over the past few weeks, wiping saltwater from the polished surface of her bar as if it were alcohol. Yuffie's face is as drawn as Tifa's heart feels and the duffel at her side clearly shouts that she intends to stay for more than just a few days.

This is obviously not a catching-up visit. The smile plastered on Yuffie's face is more fake than Cloud's declarations of love had been. Or perhaps it isn't that those sweet nothings weren't true, but just that they weren't meant for Tifa's ears. She ponders this for a moment, caught in burnt-sugar thoughts before realizing that Yuffie is still standing there half-unsure, half-expectant. Tifa moves aside and Yuffie strides past her, the youthful bounce in her step painfully absent. The door shuts and the women face each other again. They are both quiet, which is very unusual for Yuffie and much less so for Tifa, and yet she breaks the silence first.

"How are you?" The words sound awfully forced and terribly formal and she fights the urge to cringe at how emotionless she has become. Yet the false smile still drops and the weak façade is shattered and Yuffie _frowns_.

"Gawd-awful. What about you?"

It is Tifa's turn to blink, her turn to be honest. "About to file for divorce. What does that say?"

Ninja lips twist in a smile overflowing with bitterness—for herself, for her friend, for the waterlogged flower girl who still haunts them all. "It sounds like we're in somewhat of the same boat, Teef. More or less." And as hard as Tifa tries to get her friend to elaborate, she continues to refuse. Tifa gives up. It's something she's been experimenting with a lot lately. Giving up on ever having children of her own, giving up on her lie of a marriage, giving up on reconciling her love and hate for the flower girl who has somehow managed to ruin her marriage, even from the grave.

The two friends gravitate towards a booth in the corner of the bar. It is sunny and gorgeous outside and that makes them all the more bitter. They talk. Yuffie is running from duty (_again_) and Tifa is finally choosing to put herself first. Both desperately ache to have control over their own lives. Both desperately need a friend.

And so they talk and they catch up on the little things that don't matter and they have lunch together and when nighttime rolls around Yuffie helps out behind the bar. Tifa wants to flirt with the cute man with the chocolatey-brown eyes in the corner, but her wedding ring weighs heavy on her hand and she thinks that even though Cloud is living at the church now and she has either burned or trashed most of the belongings he left behind, she can't bring herself to start flirting again _just yet_. She's not positive she even knows how to anymore.

Instead they wait on tables and mix and serve and keep their hands to themselves. Yuffie is on her best behavior, not even attempting to steal from the obviously wealthy man who hits on her all night. Perhaps she is becoming more responsible. Perhaps she's simply tired. Certainly there is something wrong on a much deeper level than her desire to flee from duty.

The clock strikes three and the bar empties. The night closes in, suffocating the two women, clouding their thoughts and stealing their (only _slight_) hopes off into the darkness. They find themselves in the living room, curled together on the couch like a pair of tween best friends. Tifa cries and Yuffie sobs and the fall apart and build each other back up again with soothing whispers and hands stroking hair.

Tifa has never felt so weak and Yuffie has never been so mothering. The thought alone brings bile to the ninja's throat and she swallows the burning acid back down before her mind strays too far into dangerous territory.

Morning finds them still curled around each other like yin and yang, as if they'd been up all night telling scary stories. In a way, they had.

Tifa leaves breakfast in Yuffie's hands and heads out to see her lawyer. Their discussion is short because, _Shiva_, she's one hundred percent positive and she just wants to get it over with so she can have her last name back. She returns home to dust dancing through the bar and also the sounds of retching. The divorce papers hit the counter with a loud flapping as she rushes to the bathroom door.

Yuffie emerges, pea green and awful and the barmaid lays a hand to her forehead.

"I'm not sick." The words are confident and weak at the same time, and a sinking feeling knots up Tifa's stomach.

"Yuffie—"

"I'm pregnant."

It's as though time has stopped and even the particles of dust seem to float to a halt amid their airborne pirouettes. There should be shock coursing through her body, and yet all Tifa can do is reach out a trembling hand to touch the shinobi's flat stomach.

"Have you been to a doctor?"

Yuffie's eyes are dull as she shakes her head. "Couldn't see one in Wutai, obviously. I don't even know if I can trust the doctor's out here not to run straight to the highest-bidding magazine. Can you imagine the headlines?" The defeated voice is growing more and more hysterical and the gray eyes are glassy. "'Wutaiian Princess: Knocked Up! And Just Who is the Bastard Child's Father?'"

Tifa pulls her friend into a tight embrace, feeling hot tears soaking through her shirt and tiny, hiccupping breaths against her chest. She resolves that tomorrow, no that very afternoon, she will bring Yuffie to the most trustworthy doctor she knows of, that immediately after she will find Cloud and make him sign the papers to officially end their three-year marriage.

She vows that tomorrow she will start over fresh and help Yuffie to do the same.

.xxx.

AN: This is just something that came to me randomly last night and wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it. I want to turn this into a mega-long piece, but if there's no interest from readers, I'll probably just take it down but keep writing it for myself XD. Anyhoo, if you liked it, and possibly want to read more, drop me a review. If you hated it and think I should go burn my laptop to remove any trace that it ever existed, well you can drop a review to tell me that also :P The rest of this fic is currently writing itself in my brain as I type this, so get to reviewing! I hope you enjoyed!

~Bru


	2. Beginning

AN: Here's chapter 2! Sorry for the huge delay, life (and writer's block) has a knack for getting in the way of things. I promise the next chapter will be up much sooner! Hopefully sometime next week.

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII or any of the characters therein. If I did, there would be a whole lot more fluff within the actual game ;)

.xxx.

Yuffie has never really been a careful person. She ponders this wryly, one hand splayed across her stomach, plucking at the soft cotton of her shirt. Yet she and Tifa decide that if ever there was a time for caution and secrecy, now is it, which is how the ninja finds herself donning a long, blonde wig, blue colored contacts and four-inch heels for her doctor's appointment. Tifa masterfully applies makeup to Yuffie's flinching face, doing her best to disguise the Wutaiian heritage in the shape of her gray eyes. There is nothing to be done about the roundness of her face or her moon-pale complexion.

Yuffie hates that she has to hide, and yet she knows in her very core that she must. She would lose everything if the people of Wutai discovered her pregnant before marriage and with no acceptable suitor to be found. Her father would turn his back on her, the people would think her a promiscuous disgrace and _He_… he would… he…

Yuffie thrusts those thoughts from her mind. She focuses on nicer things, things that will keep her mindset from dark thoughts and ideas. She thinks of mewling kittens and rainbow ice cream and of sunsets spent wrapped in his arms and then she frowns. Yuffie has never been sentimental and she especially doesn't want to think of _him_. She blames the hormones.

She can't be that far along, this Yuffie knows. Probably only six weeks or so. The doctor, who doesn't even glance twice at her ring-less fourth finger, tells her it is actually eight weeks. This surprises her a little bit, if only because her morning sickness has lasted so long. Yet the whole thing doesn't truly feel real. Ever since her missed period and the positive test, Yuffie has felt like she's been living in someone else's despairing dreamland.

The disconnected feeling crashes down when she has her first ultrasound. She sees the heartbeat, sees the little kidney bean shape and suddenly Yuffie feels like crying. There is a life inside of her, a tiny little person with a tiny little heartbeat. Tifa holds her hand tightly as the tears drip rain-soft down her cheeks. She doesn't even notice enough to wipe them away. If ever Yuffie had been considering abortion, she knows now that it is not an option. They leave the office, the ninja clutching a picture of her baby kidney bean in one hand, the other rests on her stomach as if to say _I'm here, I love you_. Tifa has an arm wrapped tightly around the younger woman's shoulders and they are both smiling.

They reach the bar and Tifa makes a pot of coffee while Yuffie runs to put the picture in her room. She reappears not two moments later and nearly tackles Tifa in a hug. They share a laugh, the first since Yuffie's arrival, before settling down with their steaming mugs of coffee. They chatter about nothing for long moments before lapsing into a brief silence. There is a question sitting precariously on the tip of Tifa's tongue and yet she doesn't know if asking it will send Yuffie back into a black mood. She's afraid that it will, so she gnaws her lip and says nothing. Yet the shinobi takes one look at her face and gray eyes pierce right through her.

"Teef… you've got that look on your face. What do you want to know?"

The martial artist inhales and the breath is like shattered glass. She knows she shouldn't ask; her whole body is telling her not to and yet…

"Yuffie… who's the father? Have you told him?"

It is as though Tifa has thrown a switch, the light fades so quickly from Yuffie's face.

"He…" She begins, but her throat is like sandpaper and she chokes on the words. "He… doesn't know. We broke up before I knew and… I don't want to be anyone's obligation." She doesn't realize there are tears on her cheeks until she licks her lips and tastes salt. Tifa's gaze is kind, but Yuffie shakes her head. "Ask me anything, Tifa, but _don't_ ask me who it is. I can't… I just…" Yuffie slowly becomes incoherent as the tears pick up their pace in the sprint down her flinching face. Tifa simply nods and squeezes Yuffie's hand across the table. Across the room she sees the divorce papers sitting on the counter. They are innocent and menacing all at once, promising a long and painful procedure, but an unspeakable freedom at the other end. Tifa stares at them intently as Yuffie pulls herself together. When she notices her friend's steady focus, concerned caring fills her face.

"You gonna be okay doing this alone? 'Cause I'll go with if you want, if only to give that big jerk-head a piece of my mind."

Tifa smiles sadly, tempted, but eventually shakes her head. "I feel like I have to do this alone, Yuffs. After all, if I'm not strong enough to end it on my own, how am I ever going to get through the aftershock?"

Yuffie simply places one tiny hand on her friend's wrist, exuding warmth and friendship and support through gentle pressure. Their eyes meet and the ninja's gaze is sincere. "The difference, Teef, is that you won't be going through the aftershock alone."

One simple sentence, and yet it sends hope soaring through Tifa's body. They are two women broken, yes, but together they create one strong entity: unwavering friendship.

It is with this thought in mind that Tifa leaves the bar, shoulders squared yet heart skittering, and heads for the church. _Her _church. _His _church. Never Tifa's church.

She is barely through the threshold, one foot still raised mid-step, when it hits her. The air inside is smothering, mossy and green and choking and musty. She understands how he can live there. He has always carried his mistakes and sins across his shoulders, one giant, unnecessary cross he refuses to let down. The church reeks of death, sickly sweet and crippling. He _would_ enjoy it there, wallowing.

He is sitting against a pillar, one leg outstretched, the other bent. His elbow rests on his knee. His head hangs against his chest. Only when she is barely five feet from him does he raise his head. Startlingly blue eyes, eyes that are so familiar and so distant, blink blearily up at her.

Tifa is overtaken by a shuddering pain. Those eyes had gazed into hers as they said _I love you's _and wedding vows. Those eyes had watched her intently during the throes of passion, had glazed over as he found his own release. She realizes that they had always been substituting a different face, a softer face, a gentler face. A set of glistening emerald eyes in place of her own cabernet-colored orbs.

His voice breaks the tense silence.

"Tifa…? What are you doing here?"

She wants to get this over with. They have no children or pets and she owns the bar solely by herself. They each have their own car. In reality, they'd never truly shared anything other than a bed, she realizes with another jolt of pain. They had kept their bank accounts separate, possessions separate. Tifa remembers thinking that sharing love was enough. Obviously not.

She hands him the papers without a word. He doesn't even do her the service of looking surprised or hurt. Instead he simply nods, quickly glances through everything, and signs.

He puts up no fight, and that is perhaps what hurts the worst.

When he hands the papers back to her, Tifa has gone from hurt to outraged to numb. She turns, and begins to walk away, before a final thought strikes her. She only half tilts her head, just enough so he can see her profile over her shoulder.

"You're not welcome in the bar anymore. If you need any of your things, I'll have someone drop them off."

She strides away without another glance, head held high and dignity intact. She did not beg, she did not plead. She did not cry and that is perhaps what helps the most.

On her way back to the bar, she stumbles across Vincent. His keen eyes take in the lettering of the papers in her hand, but he makes no comment. Instead, he offers to escort her back to the Seventh Heaven and accepts her invitation to stay for a drink and even the night, if he so wishes.

Tifa thinks she should give Barrett a call when she returns home. If she's going to reconnect with a few of her comrades, even as her marriage falls to pieces, she might as well reach out to all of them, she reasons.

Yuffie is vomiting for the second time that day when she hears Tifa arrive home. Her heart stops when she hears a male voice, thinking for a moment that it might be Cloud or, even worse, _him_. It starts again, albeit stutteringly, when she realizes that it's just Vincent with Tifa. Relief floods her retching body. She calms herself; Vinnie wouldn't notice anything, and he certainly wouldn't let on even if he did.

Yet Yuffie knows her relief won't last for long. She knows that eventually _he_ will come looking for her. She knows she won't be able to lie, to keep the secret from him. She dreads that day, and prays that it won't be fast in coming.

.xxx.

AN: I would like to send a huge thank you to my four lovely reviewers from the last chapter: **Kisuno, JingYee, marquis, and Annie! **If anyone is still paying attention to this story after all this time, your feedback and general thoughts would be greatly appreciated XD

Til next time

~Bru


	3. Routine

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize. Square does, blurgh.

.xxx.

Over the next week, Tifa is surprised to find herself humming as she works. The tune is quiet, and not exactly cheerful, but it's a start.

It isn't necessarily that she's _happy_, her marriage has just ended after all, but she feels lighter. Her mind drifts back to a different time, years ago, when she had accused _him_ of dilly-dallying. It occurs to her that perhaps that's exactly what she had been doing in the weeks leading up to the ending decision. Carrying around a weight beyond her strength, a weight she didn't even _want_ to have.

Vincent's presence helps, she muses. He has stayed in the bar since walking her home from the church; quiet but comforting. She doesn't know why he stays, but she appreciates it all the same. Things settle into a neat routine, Tifa does the cooking, Yuffie does the cleaning and Vincent acts as the proverbial bouncer during the rowdier nights. When the bar closes down the three of them sit together at a booth. Sometimes they talk, sometimes they play cards and sometimes they just look at each other, trying to realign the past with their new, broken selves. Although, Vincent has been broken for far too long to truly call it new.

One week turns into two and two into three, and if the gunslinger notices that Yuffie spends her mornings bent over the toilet, he says nothing. Yet the ninja is sure that he knows. And that's what keeps her from being her typical, obnoxiously loquacious self around him. Because she realizes the Vincent is Good People, and he doesn't judge. He doesn't pester. He doesn't press for information. He simply analyzes and accepts. It's a pleasant quality, a simple one.

So, Yuffie restrains herself from putting muck in his bed and mice in his boots. Her maturity astounds and frustrates her. She's growing up. She's going to be a _mother_. That alone is enough to give her pause before she pulls a face behind Vincent's back.

It isn't that she doesn't _like_ Vincent, because she does. It's that she has always been the wind and he has always been the earth. He is solid, unflinching, unmoving. He is _unresponsive_. Apathetic, even. Yuffie is not. She is hyper-mobile, hyperactive, twitchy. She responds to each and every sensory stimulus that comes her way. And all she knows how to do is _push_.

But now, with impending motherhood—and adulthood by default—Yuffie stops pushing so hard. She stops trying to get a rise out of Vincent, her opposite, and chooses to get to know him instead. In a way, Yuffie wants Vincent to remain all the things she is not. She wants Vincent to be the complete opposite of _him_. Because then she doesn't have to think, doesn't have to wonder what life would be like if they hadn't broken up, if they were together raising their child. As long as Vincent remains so completely and undeniably different from _him_, than Yuffie has no reminders other than the one growing inside her. And that's how she prefers to keep it.

Yuffie does push Vincent on one thing, however.

It is early evening and they are sitting at the bar, Vincent with a glass of red wine, Yuffie a bottle of water. Her curiosity gets the better of her and the question tumbles from her tongue before she even thinks.

"Don't get me wrong, Vinnie… it's awesome having you around and all, but what gives? You've never stayed at Teef's for this long before."

There is a long pause and she wonders if he'll answer her. There's always a chance with Vincent, a chance that he'll simply choose not to grace her with a response. A chance that his only reaction will be a "…" before he blinks and turns away.

"Vandals. They burned down the mansion."

And that is that. Tifa has lost her marriage, Vincent his house and Yuffie her possibility-filled future. Yuffie sympathizes in the only way she really knows how: she launches her slim body at Vincent and latches onto his neck. She feels him stiffen and just grips tighter. She hasn't _completely_ outgrown the pushy thing, after all.

Yet all of a sudden she realizes. Her body isn't as slim as it used to be. She is eleven weeks pregnant, almost three months. She pulls away from Vincent, leaping up and placing a trembling hand on her stomach. There is a bulge beneath her palm, distinguishable only for the fact that her body has always been a sapling of muscle and sinew.

The room is silent as Tifa enters. Her eyes dart around the scene and she is beside the ninja in half a moment, her hand pushing Yuffie's out of the way to feel. Their eyes meet, wide and awed and anxious.

"I… I think I need to lie down." And Yuffie flies from the room.

Tifa sits next to Vincent at the bar, sighing in worry.

"She's pregnant, isn't she?" His voice is muted, like azure velvet.

"Yes… but she won't say who the father is. I think she's doing better these days, though. She's come to terms with everything surprisingly well."

"And you, Tifa? How are you doing these days?" There is an intensity flickering in his eyes, just below the surface.

She squirms a little, unused to scrutiny. Yuffie is never intense when she asks a question, simply curious and that is all. Tifa weighs her words carefully before speaking them, just as she always has. "I suppose… I'm doing as well as I can be for someone who's just watched their marriage fall apart."

He offers her a tiny smile, more from his eyes than his mouth. "Then that is all you can ask for."

She feels compelled to offer support to him as well. "Are you alright, Vincent? You usually don't stay this long."

He sighs, more willing to openly discuss matters with Tifa than with their more mischievous friend. "The mansion has been destroyed. I don't like to consider it a home but… it was the only house I really had."

Tifa is sorry, and she tells him so. He goes on to admit that he is glad that basement has at least been destroyed. Those memories deserved to be burned, he reasons. He feels a sense of closure, and Tifa smiles.

"Isn't that what we're all looking for…"

The week continues in the same pattern, as does the following one. Every evening, Yuffie retires early, and Tifa and Vincent talk. She finds it therapeutic to talk about her marriage, the good times and the bad. Vincent listens carefully to every word that escapes her lips. They never touch, yet Tifa finds their time spent together surprisingly intimate.

She speaks of Cloud and he of Lucrecia and things have balance. It is the first time in a long while that Tifa has felt that way.

Sometimes, Yuffie joins them. She doesn't speak often, doesn't care to elaborate on the person missing from her life as the other two do. She is showing slightly more each day, the pregnancy slowly beginning to wreak havoc on her tiny frame. She lives with the very real fear that _he_ might stroll into the bar at any moment, and it isn't as if she could hide anything at this point.

Still, she is happy. Her morning sickness is thankfully gone by the twelfth week, replaced by odd cravings and an uncharacteristic sluggishness. So she eats pickles and ice cream and takes naps often. She doesn't leave the bar much, and only ever under the cover of the blonde wig. Godo calls the bar and Tifa feigns ignorance for her, knowing that she isn't fooling Wutai's ruler.

The pattern is monotonous, which is just what Yuffie needs in her life. But, as these things go, the uniformity, the security, the _boring_ does not last.

Tifa is behind the bar, cleaning glasses when she hears the bells above the door chime. She doesn't look up from her task to say, "I'm sorry, but we're not open for another few hours." She finally spares a glance up towards the door and begins to smile in recognition when—

"Where is she? Where the _hell_ is Yuffie?"

.xxx.

AN: Shit's about to get real in here XD Thanks to my awesome reviewers: **Kisuno, lunaschild and JingYee! **Even though this story isn't getting a ton of reviews, the ones that I DO get make it so worth it, so thank you guys!


	4. Realizations

Disclaimer: I still own nothing… but I am thankful for Square not suing me for borrowing their characters every now and then.

.xxx.

_Tifa is behind the bar, cleaning glasses when she hears the bells above the door chime. She doesn't look up from her task to say, "I'm sorry, but we're not open for another few hours." She finally spares a glance up towards the door and begins to smile in recognition when—_

_"Where is she? Where the _hell_ is Yuffie?"_

.xxx.

Yuffie is upstairs when she hears the raised voice. The sickeningly familiar voice that sends a jolt through her heart and her hand to her belly. She feels the blood drain from her face and her eyes grow wide. She knows that voice, would know it anywhere.

_He _has found her.

Her mind races, as it has always been apt to do, jumping from fear to anger to fear to . How did he find her? Why is he there? What can she do? She realizes that tears are pouring down her face and blames the hormones as she angrily swats them away.

Her sense of fight-or-flight is screaming at her to _runawayrunawayrunaway _but her heart is aching to see his face even if it ends her.

A decision must be made. Yuffie squeezes her eyes tight as she can, and makes it.

Downstairs, Tifa puts it together in less than a second. Her eyes are wide and surprised as she stares across the room.

Reno stares back, seething and tense. "Well?" He grinds the word out between gritted teeth, and Tifa comes to her senses.

"What makes you think Yuffie is here?" She asks carefully, unsure of how she should handle this situation. It's delicate like a hand grenade; one wrong tug and she'll have an explosion on her hands.

"Because she ain't in Wutai, Teef. And that means she's running. And you're who she comes to when she gets to running." He spits the words out like acid, bitterness dripping from each syllable. Tifa feels a wave of sympathy for him crash over her. She knows what it's like to have the one you love run to another.

Still. Yuffie is her friend, her sister and Reno… Reno is angry. Is threatening. Defensiveness shoves the sympathy out of the way, and Tifa feels her expression harden. No one threatens her family.

"What do you need with Yuffie?" The words are clipped, cold. No one threatens her family.

Reno seems exasperated. "To _talk_ to her, Tifa. The brat just… I figured by now… I miss… Goddammit, I just want to talk to her. And she keeps fucking _running_."

"Not anymore." Her voice is tired as she trudges down the stairs. "I'm done with running. What do you need to talk about?" Yuffie doesn't say his name, because names have power. If she says his name, that's a step away from telling him she misses him, loves him, never wants to let him go. And she can't say those things… not safely.

His blue-green eyes focus on her, drink her in and then… he notices. He _sees_. His eyes go wide, and Yuffie winces but holds his gaze. Tifa suddenly feels like an intruder into a too-private moment. She sees the love in Yuffie's eyes as she looks at the redhead, sees disbelief on his face.

"Fuck…" It is whispered but oh-so loud in the silence of the bar. "Yuffs…?" Tifa thinks he might cross to the ninja then, scoop her in his arms and kiss her breathless. But this is real life, not a fictional romance, and he is Reno and she is Yuffie and they just don't do cliché.

"Now you get it. Why I ran." Her voice is small and her hand trembles as she splays it across the swell under her shirt.

"Yeah… I fucking get it." There is anger lacing his tone again, but hurt too. "Thought I'd be a shit dad, huh? Didn't want a Turk, a _killer_ to be father to you kid, is that it?" And now Yuffie's eyes are wide and she's shaking her head but he just keeps spewing venom, like a champagne bottle uncorked.

"So you just fucking broke things off and took off, yeah? Couldn't bear the thought of having a family with me. Yeah, I fucking get why you ran, _kid_. I get it now. Couldn't even give me the fucking benefit of the doubt. Just fucking assumed… assumed… fuck you."

Yuffie hears the harsh words, hears the anger and the hatred and suddenly she knows. She _knows_. Those are Reno's fears, his insecurities and he is just as broken as she is.

"That's not why, you big… dumb… jerk." She has always been so eloquent, she snorts inwardly. "I ran because… because… We were broken up and I got scared that you wouldn't want it or that… You'd feel like you _had_ to be with me out of some sort of… responsibility or obligation and, _Gawd, _we had broken up before I knew! You didn't want to be with me, and I wasn't gonna force you to just because I was…" Her voice trails away and she glances down at her swollen abdomen, eyes burning.

He crosses to her then, meets her at the bottom of the stairs but doesn't touch her. His hands are shaking, she notices. Tifa has somehow made herself scarce.

"Yuffie… we broke up and got back together all the damn time. It was never really the end for us…"

She meets his eyes, ferocity blazing in hers. "Well maybe I got _sick_ of all the breaking up! Why couldn't we just stay together? Why couldn't you just stay with me? You keep telling me I'm the one running away, Turk, but you did just as much running! Gawd… like I'm some fucking lost cause…"

And Reno realizes too. Realizes that Yuffie is hurt and messed up and can't trust anyone farther than she can throw them and certainly not with something as big as a _baby_. Somewhere along the line, someone had made her feel like she _wasn't worth it_ and all he wants to do is make her see that she is. God, she is.

He has always been a bit volatile, a bomb that could explode at any second. And Yuffie has always been able to match him, blow for blow, taunt for taunt. When they were enemies, they hated each other intensely and when they were lovers they went up in flames. He was a volcano, she a sandstorm and together they shone.

With her, he had love. Without her, all he had was anger and pain.

He wants to hit her. He wants to kiss her. He wants to make love to her again and again until she realizes just how much she means, has always meant, to him.

Reno has never been good with words, just the same as Yuffie. So instead of speaking, he reaches out a trembling, calloused hand and places it against Yuffie's stomach, as gently as he can.

"If you honestly think," He begins quietly, "that I was happy any of the times that we broke up… that I've been happy for the past three and a half months that you've been hiding from me… then you're quite possibly the biggest idiot I've ever met."

In the furrow of his brows, in the twist of his mouth, in the pain making his voice rough and scratchy, in the fingers against her baby-bump, Yuffie sees, hears, feels his love for her. Her head screams at her not to believe it, to reject anything that might get her hurt again but her heart drowns out those shouts, thumping against her ribs and swelling to an impossible size. She feels as though her heart may burst like a balloon, but the love she feels echoing back out of her thrusts that fear away.

One hand on Yuffie's belly, the other brushing tears from her cheeks, Reno leans down and covers her mouth with his. It has been far too long since they have kissed like this, Yuffie thinks, and she wants to drown in the feeling of being with him again.

They have a lot to discuss, many problems they still need to work through. But together, with neither of them running for once, their future looks better, easier. Happier.

From the shadowed stairs, Vincent watches them, concern etched onto his stoic features.

He was a Turk once, too… and Turks are not to be trusted.

.xxx.

AN: Well, kiddos, Happy Thanksgiving! And if you don't celebrate Turkey day then… Happy Almost End of November! Or something. This was a very Yuffie-centric chapter, but I thoroughly enjoyed writing it. All that raw emotion makes Bru a happy author XD I hope you enjoyed too! Thanks go out to my lovely reviewers: **MsRainey, Miss Informed, marquis, kisuno, ForgottenReveries, forevermare, Alecto Nyx, Sith's Shadow, and JingYee! **You guys rock, and I'm so sorry for the long wait… I hope it was worth it! Btw, quick question: Do you think these chapters are too short? I always feel like I end them in a good place, even though they aren't the longest chapters in the world but… for you, my lovely readers, I could try to make them longer if you wish. So let me know in a review. Your wish? My command XD

Til next time…

~Bru


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